


Creekside

by kiyoomi



Category: Haikyuu!!
Genre: Alternate Universe, M/M, Mentions of religion, Murder Mystery, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Unspecified Setting
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-08-02
Updated: 2020-04-08
Packaged: 2020-07-29 04:46:45
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 3,627
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20076370
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/kiyoomi/pseuds/kiyoomi
Summary: “Akaashi, stay there,” Sakusa commanded, deathly serious. Akaashi rolled his eyes, as if Sakusa really expected he’d listen. He started to walk towards him.“Akaashi, I’m serious. Stay there,” Sakusa said firmly, an edge of something in his voice that would sound like panic if Akaashi didn’t know better.Akaashi slowed but didn’t stop. “What is it?”Sakusa looked back at him with a blank face. “I think it’s a body. There’s a body in the creek.”





	1. Summer Depression

**Author's Note:**

> The idea behind this is a sort of rural murder mystery, so there will be influences of the American south and the original series setting of Japan, if that makes sense. Chapters will be short. There will be a lot of them, so buckle up! Tags will be updated as we go.

Akaashi started hanging out with Sakusa out of something like convenience. It was far easier to convince Sakusa not to tell his parents where he was hiding out to avoid going to church on Sundays if he dragged Sakusa along after all. He liked to think that it was his incredible skills of persuasion that got Sakusa to start skipping with him, but in all likelihood, Sakusa was probably just as bored during sermons as him and didn’t have any other friends to skip with.

Sakusa and Akaashi had been encouraged by their parents to be friends since diapers, but really before this summer Akaashi hadn’t really paid much attention to him, only talking to him when he had to. He was kind of boring, if Akaashi was honest with himself, and blunt. Not that Akaashi himself wasn’t blunt, but Sakusa took it to an extreme. He was also incredibly weird. Sakusa wore a medical mask everywhere. He carried a bottle of hand sanitizer in his backpack at all times. Sakusa only spoke to Komori, and this summer Akaashi. He was the golden boy of their age group to all the teachers and mothers in town, but he avoided attention like the plague. He detested germs and dirt, but he still let Akaashi drag him down to the creek or to the beat up barn out in the corn field even in the summer heat. Akaashi supposed it was fine; he was used to weirdos.

A few years ago, Akaashi wouldn’t have dared to skip church. He was a diligent son. He listened to his parents and followed their rules to the letter. A few years ago, he hadn’t been friends with Bokuto Koutarou.

Akaashi had always known Bokuto; in a town as small as theirs it was impossible not to. They hadn’t been friends though. Bokuto was loud, brash, and rowdy, the kind of person his parents scoffed at in town. The Akaashis raised their kids proper. There was no patience for delinquents like Bokuto, but that didn’t stop Akaashi from watching. All through middle school he observed silently as Bokuto and his friends egged the principal’s car, got kicked out of the corner store for knocking over a display, and scandalized the ladies at church with crude jokes. Akaashi couldn’t understand Bokuto, but he also couldn’t help but be fascinated by him. He contented himself with watching from afar and the thought that someone as bold as Bokuto never would never notice him.

Then Akaashi started high school, and everything changed. He ended up seated next to Bokuto in his geometry class, even though he was a year older. Akaashi still wasn’t sure how it happened, but he quickly got sucked into Bokuto’s orbit. Bokuto was friendly, overwhelmingly friendly. Before that geometry class they had hardly even exchanged two words, but suddenly Bokuto was trying his hardest to befriend him. He’d invite Akaashi to join him and his friends at lunch, ask for his phone number for help on the math homework, and whisper stupid jokes to him during class. Akaashi always tried his hardest not to crack a smile. It reached a point where Akaashi was hanging out with Bokuto almost every day. He started skipping church to hang out at the creek. He was now in the group getting kicked out of the corner store. He’d never felt more thrilled trailing after Bokuto and his supernova of a personality, even if it was tiring. He was prone to mood swings and inane ideas, and Akaashi slowly learned how to predict him and deal with his moods. Akaashi felt as if he was both Bokuto’s handler and just someone trailing in his shadow. Akaashi couldn’t imagine anyone with a brighter personality than him. Bokuto was his best friend and the center of life for Akaashi in this little town.

A few years passed, and Bokuto graduated. Right after graduation, he moved into the city to go to school. Akaashi supposed he was happy for him. Bokuto was always too big for their town. Still, it was only July, and the absence of Bokuto’s presence that summer felt like a punch to the gut. Now here he was with Sakusa.

Akaashi cracked his knuckles. “We should go to the creek. It’s too hot for the barn today.”

“Don’t do that. It’s bad for your joints,” Sakusa scolded him flatly.

“Yeah, yeah, whatever, let’s go,” Akaashi said. Sakusa just followed him down the path through the woods to the creek, uncaring if Akaashi actually listened to him. That was one nice thing about Sakusa. He was very hard to upset, unlike Bokuto who took everything to heart.

Sakusa was mellow. Almost painfully mellow, Akaashi thought. After Bokuto, Akaashi was used to constant motion and noise. All summer he’d felt as if he couldn’t sit still. He missed getting caught up in the energy of Bokuto. With Sakusa, Akaashi was the loud one. He was the one with dumb ideas like sneaking out at 3 a.m. to eat shitty off brand junk food in the barn only to get caught by his parents or ride their bikes down the dirt road to the closest town with a movie theater in the middle of a rain shower. It was a bit discomforting to realize he wasn’t the calm one, the voice of reason like he’d thought before. He thought he was plain, but in matching Bokuto’s wildness, he’d become a bit wild himself. Sakusa though, he was truly the definition of plain. The only time Akaashi had ever seen him express anything other than vague disinterest was around his only other friend, Komori.

Everyone in town knew that the only person Sakusa would willingly spend any time around was Komori Motoya. It was a common sight to see Komori dragging Sakusa around town with a hand on his elbow. Sakusa always looked aggrieved, but Akaashi privately thought that it was only for show when he shot that look at Komori. Komori was gone for the summer though, so here Sakusa was getting dragged into Akaashi’s restlessness.

“Why did you start agreeing to go along with me this summer?” Akaashi asked, lost in thought.

Sakusa eyed him. “Would you prefer if I didn’t?”

“No just— Nevermind. The creek’s right up ahead,” Akaashi sighed.

He trudged up to the bank of the creek, kicked his shoes off, and plopped down into the dirt with his feet in the water. Sakusa shook his head and gingerly sat on a fallen log next to him. He always said it was too dirty for him to put his feet in the water, but Akaashi didn’t know what the point of coming to the creek with him was if he wouldn’t even touch the water.

Sakusa wrinkled his nose. “Akaashi, do you smell that?”

“Are you really going to complain about the smell of the creek aga—”

“No,” Sakusa said firmly, “Something smells foul. Not just dirty, not like the creek.”

Akaashi frowned. He’d blanked out on the way here, but now that he was paying attention he did smell something disgusting.

“I’m going to investigate,” Sakusa announced. He stood and walked a little farther down the bank of the creek while Akaashi pulled his feet from the water and tried to shake them dry. Akaashi was just pulling on his shoes when Sakusa froze.

“Akaashi, stay there,” Sakusa commanded, tone harsh. Akaashi rolled his eyes, as if Sakusa really expected he’d listen. He started to walk towards him.

“Akaashi, I’m serious. Stay there,” Sakusa said firmly, an edge of something in his voice that would sound like panic if Akaashi didn’t know better.

Akaashi slowed but didn’t stop. “What is it?”

Sakusa looked back at him with a blank face. “I think it’s a body. There’s a body in the creek.”

It took him a beat to process what Sakusa had said. He kept walking towards him in confusion before he caught sight of the body. He stared down at it, his ears rushing with noise.

“Akaashi,” Sakusa said sternly. Akaashi didn’t even remember him moving, but Sakusa was suddenly holding his arms by the wrists. Akaashi was still staring at the body. He distantly thought that this was the first time Sakusa had purposefully touched him.

“We have to go.”

“Sakusa, it’s Kiryuu.” Akaashi felt cold.

“I know, but we need to go get help.” Akaashi wondered how Sakusa was so calm. They knew Kiryuu. He had been in the same grade as Bokuto, had been in the same school as them. He’d been even rowdier than Bokuto, and a couple scuffles had occurred between the two. Akaashi’s parents had called him even worse things than “that delinquent Bokuto Koutarou,” said such a brute wouldn’t amount to much. He was supposed to be working on one of the farms at the edge of town this summer. Akaashi couldn’t understand seeing his body beaten and bloated in the creek. He couldn’t….

He nodded numbly and let Sakusa lead him by the wrist back down the path into town. He kept looking back over his shoulder as if the body would still be right there behind him.

“Sakusa… Sakusa, do you think this is like what happened to Usuri?” Akaashi asked faintly. Sakusa’s grip on his wrist tightened, but he didn’t respond. It had been the talk of the town when Usuri Michiru had been found behind the church bruised and bloody in April. He refused to tell anyone who had done it, seemed afraid anytime someone asked, but everyone knew he was mixed up with the town’s delinquents like Kiryuu. Gossip ran rampant. There were all sorts of theories on who had done it. Some thought it was Kiryuu. Akaashi had punched a kid who had loudly whispered maybe Bokuto had done it.

Usuri had spent an entire week out of school recovering. He’d still had dark bruises the last time Akaashi had seen him. As far as he knew, the sheriff hadn’t even looked into what happened to Usuri, and now Kiryuu, one of Usuri’s friends, was dead in the creek. It felt wrong.

Akaashi thought he saw Sakusa’s free hand shaking but decided he must have imagined it. Sakusa sighed. “There’s no use in us worrying about it. We just need to get the sheriff and let him do his job.”

“Yeah,” Akaashi agreed blankly. He felt oddly unsure. Something about this didn’t feel right, but he gave one last look behind him, the creek long out of sight, and let himself be guided into town.


	2. Little Talks

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “Mother, a boy is dead. Isn’t that a little more important than church?” Keiji asked flatly.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey guys! Sorry for such a long hiatus. University classes and writer's block really stumped me there for awhile, but I'm back with a new chapter and should hopefully be back in the swing of writing more once I finish out the year!

Time seemed to pass in a blur. When they reached town, Sakusa led them straight to the sheriff’s office. Sakusa answered all of the man’s questions, shooting Akaashi the occasional side eye, but Keiji simply couldn’t bring himself to speak. His head felt like it was filled with static. The sheriff left them in his office to go investigate down at the creek as his deputy called their parents. By the time he returned, Sakusa’s mother was in the office fretting over him as Akaashi’s own parents stood stone-faced behind him. A team was sent to retrieve the body, the boys were sat down to answer even more questions, and eventually they were sent home with strict instructions to their parents to keep them home the next few days.

The drive home in his father’s truck was icily quiet. From the backseat he could see his mother clenching her jaw, and his father kept up a steady drumming on the steering wheel for the entire ride. As Keiji slid out of the car and trudged his way up to the house, he could feel the way his parents stared at his back. It all boiled over as his father shut the door behind them.

Keiji’s mother was the first to pounce, her tone slightly hysteric as she tiraded, “Akaashi Keiji, what in the world do you think you were doing down at that creek? You’ve been dragging poor Kiyoomi into trouble all summer, and now we get called into the sheriff’s office? I have no idea what has gotten into you with your moping and all this skipping church nonsense—”

“Mother, a boy is dead. Isn’t that a little more important than church?” Keiji asked flatly.

“What if that had been you?” his father interjected. “With all the fooling around you’ve been doing at that creek, what if we had been called in over your body instead?”

Keiji swallowed stiffly. His father fixed him with a searching look. Whatever he found, he didn’t seem to like as he sighed deeply.

“You’re not to go back there, do you understand me?”

“What?! Why? You can’t do that. I—”

“That area obviously isn’t safe. You’re not going to go back there for the rest of the summer, and you’re not going to be skipping church or any of that other foolishness you boys have been up to. Now, go on up to your room. Your mother will get dinner started, and then we’ll discuss what other changes to your behavior are gonna start happening.”

Keiji shot his father an incredulous look before closing his face off stonily and turning to stomp up the stairs. He balled his fists as he strode down the hall to his bedroom. He slammed his door shut behind him, finally throwing himself into bed.

⸻⸻⸻⸻⸻⸻⸻⸻

The days passed slowly. Two weeks went by, and neither of them heard a word on what happened after Kiryuu’s body had been pulled from the creek. No open murder case, no declaration that he had drowned, no funeral announcement. Nothing was said, as if it had never happened.

⸻⸻⸻⸻⸻⸻⸻⸻

“I hate this,” Akaashi groaned from the floor.

Sakusa fixed him with a stare up on his perch seated on the bed. “It’s not my fault you’re stuck on the property or in town for the rest of the summer.”

Akaashi’s brow twitched at what his parents had decided would be suitable to “straighten out his behavior.” He sat up and sighed, “There’s gotta be something to do around here.”

“You could be doing your summer work,” Sakusa groused, notebooks and homework pages spread out in front of him.

“It just feels wrong to be… Sitting here. It’s been two weeks since that day at the creek and—” Akaashi cut himself off. “I want to do something. There’s been no news since they pulled the body out of the water. Not even the old ladies in my mother’s knitting group are gossiping. It’s like they aren’t even investigating!”

Sakusa looked up at the ceiling, as though asking for patience. “And what are you suggesting that we do about it?”

Akaashi stumbled, clearly not having thought about it. “Well, we could ask the sheriff?”

“Akaashi, the man’s busy, and it’s really none of our business whether they’re investigating or not. Why do you even care so much?,” Sakusa prodded.

“I’m invested, Sakusa. We could investigate ourselves?” Akaashi questioned.

“That is the dumbest thing I have ever heard you say, and last month you—”

“We could go see Usuri!”

Sakusa’s face scrunched up. “Why would you even want to? You hate him.”

“You know how close he was to Kiryuu. It’s our duty as concerned classmates to check up on him, and maybe, just maybe, get some information out of him,” Akaashi explained pleasantly.

“Absolutely not.”

“If you go with me, I’ll do your math homework.”

Sakusa let out a resigned sigh as Akaashi smirked at him.

⸻⸻⸻⸻⸻⸻⸻⸻

Usuri Michiru lived in one of the few houses actually found in town. Most people Akaashi knew lived in the farmhouses spread out in the country, but Usuri lived in a little clapboard house alone with his older brother who ran the town’s only bar. He also lived in one of the most rundown places in the town proper. The house was situated on a small dirt road with only two other houses behind the bar. One of the second story windows was boarded up. The paint was peeling. The shutters were hanging crookedly. The yard was almost entirely dead. It was a sorry sight.

Akaashi hadn’t stepped foot in the building in years. It had been a pretty home back in the day. It had been painted a soft blue with clean white shutters, a well kept lawn, and flowers in the planter boxes. That was before though, before Akaashi and Usuri fell out, before Usuri’s mother died. Now it was just a dilapidated mess.

Sakusa immediately wrinkled his nose upon first sight, and Akaashi rolled his eyes. Germaphobes.

Akaashi bounded up the front steps to knock on the front door, Sakusa trailing unenthusiastically behind him. He tapped his foot impatiently, waited a few seconds, and knocked again.

“Stop that,” Sakusa sighed. “Just wait.”

“He’s not answering!”

“You didn’t give him any time to answer the door. He might not even be home.”

Akaashi huffed, reaching to knock again before the door swung open slightly.

“What do you want?” Usuri asked, suspicious face appearing in the crack in the door.

“Usuri-kun!” Akaashi greeted with a fake smile plastered across his face. “We’ve come to check on you.”

Usuri fixed him with an unamused look. “You’re trying to tell me that you and mister clean freak over there are here to check on me? Right.”

Sakusa began to scowl under his mask until Akaashi elbowed him in the ribs. Sakusa turned his glare towards Akaashi as he continued to smile pleasantly at Usuri.

“We’re just concerned classmates, Usuri-kun. We know you were close with Kiryuu-san, and we were the ones who found the body,” Akaashi explained with as innocent a tone as he could muster.

Usuri’s voice screwed up in anger. He opened his mouth to retort, “How dare—”

“Michiru!” A voice barked from upstairs. “Stop standing around at the door and invite them in!”

“Alright, alright!” Usuri yelled back, frustrated. He turned and walked deeper into the house. He looked back at Sakusa and Akaashi still standing in the doorway. “Are you coming in or not?”

“Pardon the intrusion,” Akaashi called out as he took off his shoes, Sakusa echoing him softly. They stepped further into the entry hall. Akaashi noted the scuffed up floorboards and thrum of music coming from upstairs, presumably from Usuri’s brother.

Usuri huffed and led them into a messy, beat up kitchen. He gestured for them to sit at the small dining table while he threw open the refrigerator door and started pouring iced tea. No one spoke as he set the glasses in front of them.

“Now, what are you really here for?” Usuri asked, leaning back against the counter to sip at his drink.

“We—”

“We’re looking into Kiryuu-san’s death,” Sakusa cut off Akaashi bluntly.

“Why? It’s really none of your business. Leave it to the sheriff.”

“The sheriff isn’t doing anything about it. He hasn’t even ruled it off as just an accident. It’s like everyone has just completely forgotten about it,” Akaashi tried to explain.

“So? Why do you care? It’s not like either of you were close to Wakatsu-san,” Usuri retorted.

“The body was bruised when we found it,” Sakusa said quietly. Akaashi blinked at him. He hadn’t noticed at the time with how much of a daze he’d been in over seeing his classmate dead in the creek but….

“I— What?” Usuri looked flabbergasted.

“The body was bruised,” Sakusa repeated firmly.

Akaashi jumped in, “He’s right. There were bruises on Kiryuu-san’s face, and his clothes were torn. We may not have been close to him, but something happened to him out there. The sheriff’s not looking into it; someone has to. It wasn’t an accident.”

Usuri sighed and began to pace.

“How dark were the bruises?”

“What?” Akaashi responded in confusion.

“How dark were the bruises? Were they old or new?” Usuri tries again.

Akaashi shot a bewildered glance at Sakusa.

“They did look a little old. They’d started turning green around the edges,” Sakusa said, looking thoughtful. Akaashi wondered how the germaphobe could discuss this so casually yet still hadn’t taken off his mask in Usuri’s house.

“So the bruises were from before he died…,” Akaashi mumbled, slowly piecing it together.

Usuri stopped his pacing, looking resigned.

“Wakatsu was… Mixed up in some stuff. He made some people mad. A few days before he died, he got jumped. He called me, said he was leaving town, and then….”

“So you think whoever he pissed off killed him?” Akaashi swallowed thickly.

“Maybe,” Usuri replied, looking distant.

“Do you know who it was?” Sakusa asked.

“I’m not saying,” Usuri said quickly.

Akaashi was dismayed. “Why not?”

“It’s not any of your fucking business,” Usuri grit out vehemently.

“Why not go to the cops?” Sakusa questioned.

“I—”

“Was it the same people that gave you all those bruises in April?” Akaashi cut in again.

“I’m done answering your questions. Get out of my house. Now.” Usuri’s face closed off as he stood and started ushering them towards the door.

Sakusa rose calmly to his feet as Akaashi sputtered in indignation.

“What are you doing?!” Akaashi demanded.

Usuri ignored him and continued to corral them out. He threw open the front door and gestured for them to leave.

“Usuri—”

“Akaashi, get out,” Usuri said, irritation slowly becoming apparent.

“Why?!”

“I’m not answering any more of your questions,” Usuri snapped.

“We deserve to know!”

Usuri’s face was red. “You know why everyone hates you, Akaashi? You think you’re everyone’s keeper. Maybe you’re so far up Bokuto’s incompetent ass that you can’t see it, but not everyone appreciates you trying to micromanage them. Now get the fuck out of my house and go stick your nose in someone else’s business.”

The door slammed in their faces.

**Author's Note:**

> Find me on [Tumblr.](https://kiyoomisa.tumblr.com)


End file.
